Slaying Misconceptions
by coonskin
Summary: A postep for the season 3 episode Daniel Boone Shot a Bear. First half is Becky's POV, second half Israel's.


The day at the fort had seemed interminable once she, Israel, and Rosebud were delivered back safely. Becky tried to hold the worry in check, especially in front of Israel, but as the hours passed, it grew harder.

"Remember how good a hunter he is," one of the men told her around lunch time. "Daniel will be back any time now, toting that bear's skin and asking if you'd like a rug."

Becky knew how good a hunter he was, but it wasn't just a killer bear he was after, as if a killer bear itself weren't enough to deal with. He was himself being hunted by a man, a dangerously unbalanced man. And with people, he habitually erred to the side of being too trusting. He hadn't taken Cletus seriously enough last night, and she only hoped that he would realize his mistake today in time, would pick up on the fact that he had someone on his own trail.

Or that the others would catch up. That would help, making it four against one, and Mingo would warn him. Then they could all catch Cletus and the bear, preferably in that order.

If only Mingo hadn't left him this morning after they'd found Israel, but Becky couldn't be annoyed at their friend for that. She couldn't even be properly annoyed at Israel for sneaking out last night. She should have woken up; she had been in the same room, and she had already been worried about Daniel. How could she have dropped off to sleep that soundly? If she had been more alert, Mingo would have still been hunting with her husband all day today.

But they both had thought Cletus was down for the count when they found him asleep with his empty rum jug at dawn. Not until later returning with Israel had Mingo realized their mistake when he spotted the vacant camp. So if they had never separated, would they _both_ have been caught off guard by Cletus?

She was giving herself a headache trying to sort through it all properly, and neither her worry nor her headache would help Dan. She remembered him last night before he headed out, telling her to stop worrying. As if it were that easy. She sent up a quick prayer, trying to appeal to a power that could actually do something here, but she soon found her feet growing restless again, wanting to pace. Had could the sun be so fickle, charging ahead full speed some days and then only creeping sluggishly across the sky on others?

The sun, even though sluggish, was well past overhead and starting its final descent toward the hills when the cry was heard from on top of the wall of the fort. "Here they come!"

Becky ran for the steps herself, needing the best view available. "Daniel's with them," came the hasty appended detail from above as she tried not to trip over her skirt climbing. Once up on the wall, she looked out eagerly across the ground, needing to see him with her own eyes.

There were four of them, still a good distance away and walking steadily but a little slowly. Dan was unmistakable even at a distance, his tall, lean form standing out to anyone's eyes and especially to hers. Mingo was next to him, not quite as tall but the familiar feathers making up the difference. The other two men from Boonesborough walked along. Four men in a row, returning to the fort.

Relief washed through her, followed as she watched him approach by a growing suspicion.

"Cletus Mott's not with them," the guard remarked.

"Don't see a bear skin, either," came a comment from the other side. "Could be wrong, though; wait till they get closer."

The guard shrugged. "Well, they found Daniel, at least, and he's all right."

"He's hurt," Becky stated.

Both men turned to look at her. "He looks fine to me," the guard said.

She shook her head. The clues were subtle, but they were there, falling into line as she called the roll of them. The pace of the men, rather slow even for a normal man's pace, definitely off for _his_ usual ground-swallowing stride. The way Mingo was just a little bit too close to him on the left, as if he were half hovering while trying not to appear to be hovering. Clinching the impression was the way that Dan, when he looked up and spotted the watchers on the wall, straightened up as if deliberately not wanting his posture to seem off. A moment later, he lengthened stride, but he had straightened up first, and that spoke volumes to her.

With a sigh, she turned away and tried not to hurry too much down the steps. The gate of the fort was still open as the sun hadn't set yet, and she ran out of it.

He was coming on ahead of the group now, stretching his legs out but still not up to his usual standard, and Mingo was still glued to his left side as they left the other two in their wake.

Becky ran on to meet him well outside the gates, and Mingo peeled off, yielding position to her while still staying close. She saw the blood on Dan's shirt and reached for it even while he caught her up in a somewhat-lopsided hug. "How would you like a bearskin rug?" he asked her.

"Oh, Dan." Her fingers were probing. The bullet had gone clear through, a flesh wound in the shoulder, not too bad but no doubt burning like fire. It had been cleaned and treated preliminarily out there, probably by Mingo, but she could feel the pain in him underneath the forced nonchalant front.

"I'm all right, Becky," he assured her. "Mingo fixed me up."

"Do you think that's going to stop me from doing it again?"

Mingo smiled. "I know the answer to that one. It's not too bad, Rebecca, really."

"So Cletus shot you? But where is he?"

"That's a long story," Dan protested. "Let's get in the fort where we'll only have to tell it once." He knelt and reached out to Israel, who had run out and was standing just behind his mother wide-eyed, staring at his father's ripped and bloody shirt. "I'm fine, son. I promise. Just a scratch."

"Where is Cletus?" Becky demanded. Mental images of that man stalking her husband on yet another day played through her mind. "Is he dead?"

"No, but we don't have to worry about him anymore."

"Don't have to . . . Daniel Boone, would you give me a straight answer?"

Her husband stood slowly and exchanged a look with Mingo, and the Indian dutifully tried to take the handoff. "Cletus has had a change of heart, Rebecca. Hopefully." Mingo couldn't help adding that postscript.

"Hopefully?" She was still gently holding her husband's left arm as if she could carry some of the pain for him.

"He swore that he would never commit another vengeful act as long as he lived," Dan stated, obviously a direct quote.

Becky rolled her eyes. "And you believed him? After he chased you, hunted you, and shot you, he said that line, and you immediately forgave him for everything?" He gave her a smile, and Mingo had one himself in obvious appreciation of Becky's apt summary.

Daniel looked around at the gathering crowd; over half of the town was out here now. "Again, can we all go inside and talk about this somewhere more comfortable? I'd rather not tell it more than once."

Mingo's smile faded into quick analysis, and Becky caught the undertones herself that time that she had missed on the first suggestion. Minimizing though he was, her husband was hurting, and she was keeping him standing out here pestering him with questions. "Of course, Dan." She turned back, still protectively holding his left arm, catching Israel's hand on her other side. "Come on. I'll bet you're starved, too."

He shook his head. "Mingo made me eat some bear steak before we started back."

"That's not enough," she insisted, but she gave Mingo a grateful glance. Their friend had obviously done his best at first aid out there in the hills.

Israel was slowly coming back to life. "Did you shoot the bear, Pa?"

"Yes, I shot the bear."

"Where is he?" Israel looked around.

"He was more than we wanted to tote at the moment, so he's all skinned and waiting out there. Ira's going to send a horse back for him."

"I did offer to send one back for Daniel, too," Ira tossed in quickly for Becky's benefit. "But he said he didn't need it."

Becky gave her husband a look, but then she realized at least part of his motive. He hadn't wanted her to see the men returning without him, wanting to spare her imagining the worst even briefly before an explanation could be given. She was grateful for that, though she thought he probably should have ridden back. Walking next to him into the fort, holding his arm, she could tell that he wasn't feeling at his strongest. It had been a long, hard day for him much more than it had for her.

Once in the tavern, Daniel sat down at a table, and the citizens gathered around. Becky insisted on getting him something to eat and on getting herself medical supplies, but then, while she doctored his shoulder, the tale unfolded, how he and Mingo had tracked the bear to the cabin, had found Israel and Rosebud hiding in the cellar, how Mingo had taken Israel back while Daniel went on, how he had discovered Cletus on his trail, how Cletus, given first shot, still couldn't kill the bear of his nightmares and Daniel had done it for him, and how the obsessed man had then turned on Dan and hunted him for a good while before Mingo showed up to the rescue. At the end, Cletus had accidentally shot his own dog while aiming for the men, and the error had crushed the fight out of him.

"So he took his dog and left," Dan concluded. "He really meant it, I think. He realized that everything he'd been fighting for for three years was poisoning him."

Ira nodded toward Dan's shoulder. "Good thing he's not as good a shot as you are. Couple of more inches to the right while you were running for the woods, and he would have killed you."

Becky shuddered, and Dan touched her hand reassuringly. "He did well to hit me at all. I didn't think he could, not at that distance at a moving target."

"You were wrong," Mingo pointed out. "But not too much damage done."

"Well," Dan said, pushing back a bit. His shoulder was bandaged, and his plate was empty. "Let's wrap up this story, and Becky and Israel and I will head for home. Everybody can go back to their cabins now. The danger is over, and I for one am looking forward to sleeping in my own bed tonight."

"Daniel," Mingo reminded him, "your cabin was ransacked by that bear."

"That's right, Pa," Israel agreed. "You should have heard him. He was so mad when he couldn't get me and Rosebud. He was slamming everything."

"The door isn't even hung right," Mingo added. "There's going to be several hours of work required on that cabin to put it all right again. And I'm afraid I'm busy tonight; I couldn't help you."

Becky felt her husband sag beneath her hands. He had never gotten any sleep last night, after all, and he had spent a lot of today either hunting or being hunted. "You're not going anywhere tonight, Dan," she insisted. "We'll stay here in the guest room and rest, and tomorrow we'll see to the cabin."

"That's a good idea, Daniel," Mingo agreed. "I'm not busy tomorrow, and I'm sure some others would be glad to help."

Dan looked at him steadily. "I doubt you're that busy tonight, either," he stated.

Becky put her foot down. "No matter _who_ is or isn't busy tonight, you aren't going to be, Daniel Boone. We're staying here, and that's not up for debate."

"You'd better listen to her, Daniel," Mingo recommended.

He yielded. "Well, if you insist, but it's a waste of an evening's rent on the room."

Slowly, the crowd dispersed. Mingo stayed behind until the end, strangely reluctant to leave for someone so busy tonight, and his hovering extended clear up the staircase to the room. "Good night, Mingo," Dan said pointedly as they reached the door.

"Good night," their friend replied amiably. He left, and Dan lay down a little gingerly. Becky boosted Israel into the top bunk. "Israel," she said, "you'd better be right here in the morning."

"Yes'm," he said promptly. "I'm not going anywhere. I promise." He dropped his voice. "Is Pa all right?"

"He will be." She gave her son a kiss. "Good night, Israel."

"Night, Ma. Night, Pa."

There was no reply from the lower bunk, and both mother and son looked down. Dan was already asleep.

DB DB DB DB

The cabin-repairing party assembled as promised the next morning. Israel stayed around the edges, helping out where he was asked, but he drifted away into the edge of the woods as soon as he had a chance. He stood there petting his fawn and thinking.

 _"Couple of more inches to the right while you were running for the woods, and he would have killed you."_ The words from last night kept replaying in Israel's head.

He hadn't slept well last night. He kept waking up either remembering the sound of the bear storming over the cellar or worried that he had only dreamed that his Pa was back safe. Ma hadn't even remembered to punish him yesterday for sneaking out. He had watched her all afternoon while she was waiting and worrying.

Somehow the possible consequences hadn't sunk in when he slipped out to go retrieve the fawn. Yesterday morning, he had only been thinking of Rosebud, but yesterday afternoon and evening, he had realized the truth. His Pa had been out there alone because of what Israel had done, requiring Mingo to leave his Pa and escort him home. His Pa had come a few inches from death because of his son.

Israel shivered. He stroked the fawn, trying to deal with thoughts too large for his small head. "I'm glad you're safe, Rosebud, but I didn't mean . . ." He trailed off, unable to say it even to the deer.

"You didn't mean what, son?"

Israel jumped, turning around. His Pa could move so quietly sometimes, stalking like a shadow through the woods. Now, he stood there behind him, waiting.

Israel looked past him toward the cabin, toward the sounds of activity.

"Your Ma refused to let me help them," his Pa explained. "She's still worried over this little scratch."

"It's a pretty big scratch," Israel corrected. He had seen it yesterday afternoon in the tavern when his Ma had been cleaning it out.

"But still just a scratch. It'll heal." Pa settled down comfortably on the ground, back against a tree, and opened the circle of his good arm, and Israel snuggled into him. Rosebud browsed at the end of her tether. "What didn't you mean, Israel?"

"Nothing, sir."

"Israel, I like to think you trust me."

"Oh, I do, Pa. I trust you more than anything."

"Enough to trust me with things that are bothering you?"

Israel looked away, toward the fawn, and was silent.

"You don't think this was all your fault, do you?" Pa asked.

The wall of resistance came crumbling down, and Israel was just a frightened boy again. He crumpled into his father's side. "I didn't mean it, Pa. Honest. I could have . . . you could have been killed."

Pa held him close, letting him cry. Finally, when the tears had worked out, he spoke. "Israel, listen to me. What you did yesterday was wrong - partly. But it was partly right, too. But what you did _wasn't_ what got me hurt."

"But if Mingo hadn't had to leave you alone. . ."

"If Mingo had still been with me, neither one of us would have known Cletus was after us, maybe not until it was too late. It's only because we separated that he saw on the way back with you that Cletus wasn't by his fire still and that he was able to turn up to save me later."

Israel hadn't thought of that. "But he might not have been able to get _both_ of you if he'd surprised you. Not if you were together."

"He still would have had that first shot basically free. We wouldn't have known he was behind us; we thought he was still sleeping off the rum. And most likely, he'd have taken that first shot at _me_ , not Mingo. Even if Mingo got him after, if we'd both been caught off guard, I might well have been hurt anyway. But you can drive yourself crazy with might-haves. I'll tell you something, Israel, I made a mistake myself yesterday. Big one. And that contributed a whole lot more to this shoulder than anything you did."

"You made a mistake? What mistake?" Israel had trouble picturing his Pa making one that big.

"I misjudged Cletus. Your Ma had warned me. People at the fort had warned me. I still thought he wasn't that dangerous, just a little obsessed. You see, Israel, when he shot me, it wasn't because he took me by surprise. I shot the bear, and then I drew my knife to skin him. Cletus was standing right there facing me, ranting on about how I had interfered and killed a bear that was rightfully his to kill, and I _still_ didn't take him as seriously as I should have."

"Not even then, Pa?"

"Not even then. I actually threw down my knife when he said I wasn't going to skin that bear. Cletus didn't take that from me; I tossed it down. And then I told him to skin the bear himself, then. I still didn't get it. It wasn't until he said he'd skin me with that knife that I realized I'd better do some running and do it quick. If I'd kept the knife instead of throwing it down voluntarily, I could have defended myself a lot better, even with my gun empty."

Israel was soaking in this scene, picturing all of it. "You could have thrown it into him when he reached for his gun." He'd seen how his Pa could handle that knife. He could land it in the precise square inch he wanted on a toss and at a lot farther range than this sounded like.

"That's right. And then tackled him while he was wounded. Instead, standing right there with him going on like a crazy man, I still misjudged him, and I just dropped it." He shrugged his wounded shoulder. "I should have listened to your Ma. Should have had my guard up more around him. _That's_ why I got hurt, Israel. Not that he snuck up on me, but that I looked straight at him and still didn't believe what he was."

"Why'd you let him go, then?"

"He changed, Israel. I really think he changed after he shot Hummer by mistake and then realized his dog was only wounded. It was like all the anger and poison went out of him. He'd carried that a long time; I think he was glad to lay it down. Revenge is a heavy load for anybody to be toting, especially for as long as three years." Pa hesitated. "Guilt is another heavy load. No boy ought to be carrying that when he doesn't deserve it. Do you see how I got hurt yesterday and how it wasn't your fault?"

"Yes, sir." Israel looked at the fawn. "I still worried Ma, though."

"Yes, you did. That was wrong. But you were trying to think of your responsibilities to your pet, and that wasn't wrong."

"How can stuff be part wrong and part not wrong?"

"That's how life is a lot of times, Israel. Really, I made a mistake there with you, too, and I'm sorry for it. When I was taking you and your Ma to the fort to be safe from the bear the night before, you asked me about Rosebud right then, and I cut you off. I was worried about the bear. But I could have taken a few minutes while your Ma was getting things ready to look around the clearing for her, to see if she could have come along with us then." Israel squirmed. "What?"

"You wouldn't have had to look far, Pa. Rosebud was right up there beside my bed."

Pa looked at him and shook his head, trying to look stern, but Israel saw the grin breaking through. "Israel, you know what? We're both a couple of rule breakers who did some things we shouldn't the last few days."

Being lumped in with his Pa made Israel feel better. "Yes, sir," he agreed.

"But you know something else? We're both fine, and everything worked out in the end. But everybody makes mistakes. It's what you learn from them that matters. So next time your Ma warns me that somebody's crazy dangerous, I'll pay a little bit more attention when he's having a fit in front of me and won't just drop my knife. What did you learn?"

"Well, sir, I know I'm not supposed to have Rosebud in the cabin, but next time I do anyway, if we all have to go to the fort to be safe, I'll be sure to tell you right then."

Pa laughed and pulled him into a hug. Just then, Ma's voice was heard from the cabin porch. "Dan? Israel?"

"I think we're being called. Don't want to worry your Ma more than we have to." He stood up and raised his voice. "Coming, Becky."

Israel picked up the tether on his fawn. "Pa?" he asked.

"What is it, son?"

"Were you scared when you were running in the woods with Cletus and the dog hunting you?"

"Sure I was. Just like you were scared when the bear was tearing up the cabin."

Israel nodded, satisfied, and held onto his Pa's good hand as they broke out of the trees and headed for the cabin.

Ma was standing on the porch. "Where have you two been? Dan, I told you to take it easy. I hope you weren't trying to teach him woodcraft or something, not today."

"No, Becky. We were just slaying a few misconceptions." Pa gave her a hug. "How's the cabin fixing going?"

"It's done, and lunch is ready for everybody. Are you hungry?"

"Yes." Israel and his Pa answered in unison, and Israel felt a warm, comfortable feeling in his stomach, far better than the knots of yesterday.

"Well, wash up, and we'll eat."

"Yes'm, soon as I tie up Rosebud. She can't come in with us. She's not allowed in the cabin."

Ma straightened up. "Well, I'm glad you've finally learned _that_ lesson, young man."

"Yes'm." Over her shoulder, Israel saw his father wink, and he turned away quickly to find a tree to tie Rosebud to before he lost control of his face and his Ma saw it.


End file.
